Which Way to Oxford?

I’m a bachelor, 30 years of age, living in Burbank California. My nephew from a brother I’ve not spoken with for a good 12 years (out of his own volition) has phoned me. He’s 18 and wants to stay with me a while whilst searching out Californian colleges.

Yes, he’s blood, but do I have an obligation room and board the son of a man I barely know anymore?

Please advise,
Anonymous

Say, you aren’t the Anonymous are you? I mean, some of the world’s greatest prose came from some dude named Anonymous. And I must say, your note shows verbosity there Shakespeare.

Anyhoot, you want to know if you have to hole up this nephew of yours. The short answer is no. I mean, you got a deadbolt right? If you don’t, and live in Burbank, then you sir are a brave brave man.

But, I’ve never been one for short answers.

You don’t honestly think this kid is gonna travel all the way to scenic downtown Burbank to scout out colleges do you? I mean you got, what, a cosmetics school and piloting school without an airstrip?

No my friend, the tot’s got a script… and you’re in it. Think of it, a well written gentleman takes in his estranged nephew into his swanky bachelor pad filled with priceless heirlooms… the same heirlooms that split apart two brothers years ago because mom liked you best! The nephew attends the local community college and decides to make the arrangement permanent. He joins the basketball team, invites his new found teammates over for tea and crumpets and they manage to break every last chochkey (in hilarious fashion!). So, enlisting the help of the geeks in the chess / nuclear physics / renaissance actors guild, the lot of you go back in time to stop the the destruction. But, due to the over zealous nature of a rogue renaissance actor, you over shoot your target by 600 years and 5500 miles and you land in Merry Olde England, where you live out your days writing plays under a pseudonym.

It’s gold I tells ya! GOLD! Let the boy in. I’ll be your agent. We’ll call it “Which way to Oxford?” Alec Baldwin will play you, Liv Tyler can play him (re-write… hey, it happens). Think of the sequels! Call me. Your people and my people will do lunch while we’ll get some hookers. It’ll be a kick.

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Disclaimer: Mr. Eccentric is crazy. Any information and/or advice dolled out by this manic should be taken not with a grain of salt, but a 20 lb block of Himalayan salt (doesn't need to be pink). In other words, Mr. Eccentric is for entertainment purposes only.